


These Are My Words

by MeetMeAtTheEndOfTheUniverse



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/F, Soulmate AU, i wish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:55:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22890613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeetMeAtTheEndOfTheUniverse/pseuds/MeetMeAtTheEndOfTheUniverse
Summary: She wouldn't leave this way. Her words have not been said.
Relationships: Olivia Benson/Alexandra Cabot
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	These Are My Words

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo!
> 
> This is a little one shot that I wrote when I was incredibly bored and thinking of chapters for my other stories. I noticed these types of stories going around a long time ago so I decided to finally jump on a long forgotten bandwagon.
> 
> I don’t own these character and I don’t have a beta so apologizes all mistakes are mine. I hope you like.
> 
> Bre <3

She had never realized the impact of them until she was around the age of 4 or 5.

Small secretive whispers had goaded her attention until the general words uncoiled to something else; something exciting, something almost forbidden.

Her mother didn’t talk about them. She knew that. Dark black but scar covered words sat upon her own ankle even after years of attempting to scratch them away with any means possible. She said they lied. That the words meant nothing, they were there to taunt you in ways unimaginable and subsequently break your soul in the process.

Olivia never asked her mother about her words ever again.

-

As she grew, her words went with her. She carried them through life even as others paid her no mind. They were something special, something just for her.

Soul words, someone had said once. What a beautiful way to phrase it.

She loved them. These words carried her through the hardest of times. They stayed with her when her mother would pass out drunk in the middle of the living room floor or when she’d stumble around just before her hand left finger shaped bruises on a young cheek.

Olivia would sit for hours upon hours caressing them on her small wrist, tracing gentle fingers across perfectly written scripture.

That was until her mother saw her. Those gentle fingers were replaced with ones that hurt. Ones that gripped so tightly that she lost feeling to her hand, nails dug so deep into her flesh, tiny rivulets of red dripped onto the hardwood flooring beneath them. She’d never heard her mother scream as loudly as she had right then. The cruelest of words escaping her lips, her smirk taking merciless pleasure at the tears running freely from young eyes.

She vowed to never touch them again.

-

By the time she was a teenager she was out of that house. Bracelets upon bracelets now sat upon a scarred wrist. She didn’t want to see them. They were cruel. When she couldn’t wear anything on them, makeup was her best friend. When others asked about her words she’d shrug and say that she was born without them. How she’d loathe the pitying looks her remark would gain. The simperingly sweet pat on her shoulder and the sorry that would slip from their lips.

It wasn’t like it was completely unheard of just not that common. Many people were born without words, it just meant that they didn’t have a “soulmate” or maybe just any one.

God she hated them so much. These words were supposedly the last thing her soulmate would ever say to her. Ha! Yeah right. She hated what they stood for, hated that they taunted her mother, tainted her view of the world. There wasn’t even a guarantee that you’d fall in love with your soulmate only that one day they’d say the words written on your body before they died or left you forever.

She wanted to leave them in the past, not think about them in the future because she knew, she knew if she really allowed herself to dwell on them, the hope would rise in her chest once more as if she were once again a child.

-

Tears streamed down tanned cheeks as she sat alone against the wall in her apartment. Her first week on the job as one of New York’s finest had left much to be desired. 

She’d been writing paperwork at her desk, keeping her head down in fear of any conversation reaching out for her. 

Small feet trotted noisily alongside clipped heeled stilettos. A young blonde boy with his mother. He couldn’t have been more than 7 or 8 years old. She’d smiled at him as he walked past just making out the words scrawled blatantly on the side of his neck. Her heart froze in her chest meeting the sad eyes of the young boys mother.

_See you at recess Tommy_

His words written in the messy scribble of a child. She knew. His mother had always known that her little boys soulmate would die young. A child. They’d be ripped viciously away from her son before he’d even get the chance to love them. How would she explain that; when he’d go look at his neck years later to see the now scarred and faded words, that it meant that he no longer had a destined love.

That’s what happened when your soulmate finally said your words. They’d fade from the harsh black handwriting of their companion into the barely visible pink of fresh scars. Any day now, his words would do just that. 

The smallest of nods were exchanged between the two women as the pair moved on. 

It had been 3 days later when her prediction came true. 

7 year old Amanda had been snatched from the school grounds as she left to go out to recess. The next day her broken body had been found by a creek deep into a remote area of the woods. 

Olivia glanced a look at the scarred, hard to make out words that she once shared with a little boy with blonde hair. 

_Manda! See you at recess?_

For the first time in almost 15 years, Olivia uncovered her own words and held them tightly to her chest as it heaved with harsh sobs.

-

By the time she’d met Elliott, her words were once again on proud display. She didn’t often touch them anymore but she would sometimes glance to them momentarily and smile. 

Elliott too didn’t choose to cover his words though someone up there had allowed his to be naturally concealed by his shirt. Olivia had first spotted them in the locker room of the precinct. 

There sitting gently right under his left pec was the tidy block script from what appeared to be a woman. 

_Bye Hon_

The brunette detective smiled softly to herself glancing up quickly as her partner cleared his throat.

She met his eyes defiantly. She wasn’t sorry for looking. 

“You wife?” She questioned 

He smiled triumphantly at her. “I sure hope so.”

-

The first time she’d spotted the knockout blonde had been at court. She’d come strutting, literally strutting down the hall alongside what appeared to be her client chatting happily. Her long legs encased in incredibly high heels and a tight black pencil skirt. Olivia’s gaze worked its way up the expanse of her body and she silently gaped as the woman drew nearer. 

The blonde had smirked to herself as she noticed the eyes of everyone on her. She knew she looked good. It wasn’t until her bright blue orbs landed on a handsome brunette woman staring at her that she stopped momentarily before continuing her stride. 

She made sure to gently brush up against the other woman as she passed, whispering conspiratorially next to her ear.

“Close your mouth detective. You’ll catch flies.”

Olivia had silently watched her leave the courthouse like she owned the place. 

_Woah_.

-

The first time she’d gotten a glimpse of Alex’s word’s had been after one of their many nights that the women took for themselves. Girls nights. They’d realized early on that they’d have to band together to survive their male dominated field of work. 

That night had been at Olivia’s apartment. Wine, ice cream and movies. The perfect night in. 

Both women had ended up drinking far too much to even consider the idea of driving home, allowing the detective to so graciously offer the guest room to her friend. They’d both knew that they were much more than that. 

As she had returned to the room with a fresh set of pyjamas for the prosecutor to borrow, she walked in just in time to see the other woman remove her shirt. Scratchy black words spelled out on creamy skin along her hip bone.

_I know. Me too. So much_.

From that moment on, that spot had become Olivia’s favourite place to hold the blonde close to her.

-

Alex would often find herself stroking the words that rested upon the inside of her lovers soft wrist. She’d take special care to kiss them and brush her fingers gently over her own flittering cursive writing. Olivia would do the same on her hip.

Both of them had promised each other that they never cover up their words again.

They were each other’s soulmates. It just made sense. 

-

The first time Olivia had kissed Alex, they’d been in the middle of an argument. 

She supposes that should have been a warning. 

-

It was several years later and no one had expected it. 

It had been a late night with the guys out at the bar when they’d been walking home in the cool breeze of New York City at night. 

Alex’s hand had been grasped tightly in hers when the first gun shot permeated the air around them. Then the second. 

At the first inkling of Danger, the brunette had thrown them both to the ground watching with steady eyes as tires screeched and squealed away. 

She had checked herself over first to make sure she was fine. 

She shouldn’t have waited. 

There was Alex. Two bullet wounds in her shoulder lying so still, Olivia thought she must be dead. 

-

She’d refused to sit, still covered in her blood. Her hands fidgeted restlessly as they fought for something to do; something to hold onto. 

Moments flashed through her mind. What could she have done better? What else could she have done? 

“Liv.” Elliott sighed from the chairs. His own posture tired and defeated. “Come sit.”

She’d shot him a look. He sighed. 

She continued to pace. Her hands curled harshly into fists so hard that her nails bit into her palms and her fresh blood mingled with Alex’s now dried onto her flesh. 

They’d all stood when a tall man in a doctors coat had stepped into the room. His face unreadable.

The world falling silent around her as the words fell from the doctors lips.

“I’m so sorry.”

-

It had only been 3 hours ago. 3 hours since her life had been ripped apart and thrown under foot that crunched it to pieces. 

She shook her head furiously pacing the length of the small room back and forth ignoring how her partner stood in the doorway watching sadly. 

“She’s not dead.” She mumbles tangling her fingers in her cropped locks.

Elliott sighs and shifts his position. He steps in her path, his hands out in a position to show her no aggression. “Liv...”

Strong shoulders sag so deeply it appears as if she’ll melt right in front of him. Big brown eyes wet with emotion, pain swirling so darkly that he wouldn’t be surprised if she actually broke like fine porcelain. A solid stream of tears pour down her cheeks and the man had never felt the urge to hold her as strongly as he did now. The protective dad heart of his cracked at the look of a lost child on her face. 

“She didn’t say them.” She whispers so quietly he almost misses it. 

“What?”

“My words. She didn’t say them.”

“I-“ what is he really supposed to say to that? The doctors had told them. There was no denying it. “Maybe she wasn’t-“

“NO!” She screams yanking herself out of his grasp so roughly she stumbles back and almost falls. He reaches his hands out in surprise as if to grab her but she hits his arms away as hard as she can. “SHE’S NOT DEAD! SHE CAN’T BE. SHE DIDN’T SAY THEM!” 

His heart crumbles watching her frantic attempts to convince herself that Alex was her soulmate. Not only had his best friend, his favourite person in the world, lost her girlfriend but within the span of minutes, he assumed she’d also lost the idea of her soulmate. He watches in utter devastation as she walks herself backwards until she hits the wall and slides down to find herself hunched on the cold concrete floor.

Gasping, heart wrenching sobs rip from her throat and yank on her body. It’s though there are millions of hands pulling and pushing her back and forth, shoving her around as she’s beaten black and blue. She panics momentarily as a heavy weight presses on her chest. Her hands fold inwards to clutch her heaving breast as her heart snaps under the pressure. 

Elliott hears her mumbles through his own terror. He makes out the words, “not dead.” “Didn’t say the words” from her quivering lips. He’s scared that she’ll push herself off the edge straight into a full fledged panic attack. 

All he can do it watch her as she gasps and trembles before him, not allowing any affection or comfort to fall upon her. 

Olivia stares down at her wrist, the beautiful words flowing on her skin; paled by recent loss. Where the scripture once promised fulfillment and warmth, she could now only glare at it as if the small phrase, only 5 words long, had utterly betrayed her. 

“Not dead.” She whispers caressing the glorious promise that her own skin shows her. The tiny and immaculate script that she  knows  belongs to a beautiful blonde. 

_Hey Liv? I love you._

It’s this promise, this complete faith in her instincts that forces her to believe the frantic words that spill from her grieving lips. 

For the first time in a long time; all Olivia wants to do is cover her words up.

Who knows. Maybe her mother had been right all along


End file.
